


unfolding slowly towards the light

by the_ragnarok



Series: (and harold) [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, F/M, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 17:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: On the hour mark, Harold bids his pride goodbye and calls Ms. Morgan.





	unfolding slowly towards the light

John is late.

Not that John said when he'd be back, exactly. But the process of his assignations with Ms. Morgan has been fairly predictable to date. According to Harold's estimation, John ought to have been back in the library twenty minutes ago.

Harold resists the urge to locate John's phone. It would be a gross breach of privacy. Besides, he has a view on all the exits from Ms. Morgan's apartment building including the roof, and he hasn't seen hide nor hair of John.

On the floor beside him, Bear whines. Harold sighs. "I know." He buries his hand in Bear's fur, grateful that nobody is here to see him.

~~

Forty minutes. What on Earth could they be doing? John has admittedly impressive stamina, but even he must be tired out. Ms. Morgan puts him to hard use: Harold has seen evidence aplenty of that before.

A distressing possibility occurs: Zoe leaving John in some sort of bondage to pursue her other business and forgetting him there. Harold dismisses the thought immediately. Ms. Morgan did not get to where she is in life by forgetting important responsibilities. Anyway, if he thought she'd be so careless he'd never permit her arrangement with John.

Of course, perhaps this was not up to him to permit. He thought he and John had an understanding, but perhaps he was wrong.

~~

It's likeliest that John simply fell asleep. Harold tries to fix his mind on that, the image of John peacefully not-quite snoring, familiar from many nights spent on the couch in the library.

And yet, he can't help but fret. As far as he's observed, Ms. Morgan never does more than the barest bones of aftercare. John falling asleep immediately after a scene without guarantee, however oblique, that he's cared for is likely to result in some unpleasantness.

Of course, a little bit of sub drop is hardly the end of the world. John would shrug it off, as he's done with so many worse things.

Perhaps that's why Harold is so distressed at the notion. John has had so many unavoidable hurts inflicted on him. This is meant to be, if not pleasurable, beneficial on some level. The idea of John sustaining yet more hurt from his scenes makes Harold want to grit his teeth.

~~

On the hour mark, he bids his pride goodbye and calls Ms. Morgan.

She answers on the third ring. "Harold!" She doesn't sound surprised. "How can I help you?"

With some effort, he manages to keep a polite tone. "Is John still there?"

"As a matter of fact, he is." Ms. Morgan sounds downright amused. "Have I kept him past his curfew?"

Harold does grit his teeth then. He ought to acknowledge that John doesn't report to him on these matters, that it's none of his business.

But it _is_ , damn it. "I was wondering when to expect him," Harold says, allowing a touch of frost into his voice.

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't want you to wait up," Ms. Morgan says, airy. "I have him, Harold. Relax. Everything is taken care of."

How is Harold to respond to that? "You've never shown an interest in managing his aftercare before."

"Well, it's just polite, isn't it?" Ms. Morgan says. "Can't always stick you with all the dirty work and none of the fun."

"It is not _dirty work_ ," Harold snaps. "It is beautiful and vital and-- and--" he stumbles on words and into the realization that Ms. Morgan would surely not mind, in fact, sticking Harold with all the parts of play she liked least.

"So you know that it's important to you," Ms. Morgan says. She sounds approving, ridiculously enough. "And now John knows, too. Don't you?"

Harold tenses up, but in another second a familiar voice rasps, "Harold?" John sounds shaken, unsure.

It steadies Harold, in counterpoint. "Come home, John," he says, not sparing much thought for Ms. Morgan. "Let me put you to rights."

"I'm coming." John's voice is thick when he answers. "I'm coming right away."

~~

True to his word, John arrives at the library shortly. His shirt seems to have been done up in a haste, a couple more buttons left undone beside John's customary top three. "Harold."

Harold is sitting down on the sofa. He has a pillow next to him, which he pats. John sits, with obedience that warms Harold's heart. "Are you comfortable?" Harold asks.

"I'm fine." John's eyes are intent on Harold. 

"What kind of aftercare did Ms. Morgan engage in?" Harold could pick up where she left off, presumably, if she even did anything worthy of being called aftercare.

John shrugs. "Gave me a blanket and an energy bar. And some water."

Technically, there is nothing wrong with that. Except it's evident from John's voice that he does not feel cared for, and that's the very core of what aftercare needs to achieve with him. Even if Harold's early efforts in taking care of John were hardly more than that - a pillow, a blanket, a well placed bottle of water - Harold doesn't think he's flattering himself by thinking John reacted well to the intention behind them.

John leans towards him, just the slightest hint of movement, and it's easy to pull him so that his head rests in Harold's lap. The rest of John lies sprawling on the sofa. Harold touches John's hair, which is damp with sweat. Ms. Morgan must have worked him hard.

Finally, John breaks the silence. "You meant that." There's no small amount of wonder in his voice.

"I rarely say things I don't mean," Harold says. "But I'm not sure what you're referring to."

"This," John says, not particularly clarifying. "You taking care of me. You told Zoe you liked it."

That's a rather bland way of putting it. As Harold said, he finds caring for John beautiful and vital, and immensely satisfying. He says so, and adds, "Before today, I was quite grateful to Ms. Morgan for doing the heavy lifting, so to speak."

"Yeah?" John's tone is cautious, familiarly so. He wants to hear what Harold has to say, and is afraid of the want.

Harold strokes his hair. "I was feeling almost guilty, as a matter of fact. Both leaving to Ms. Morgan the work I found difficult and being so eager to do the part I enjoyed."

John's expression turns alarmingly blank. "I didn't realize you found this difficult."

Harold tightens his hold on John's hair when he tries to move away. John doesn't struggle against Harold's grip but rather goes limp. "The part I would have found onerous is inflicting pain or humiliation on you. I doubt that would be as effective if I were doing it rather than Ms. Morgan, anyway. I suspect a strong component in how powerful you find it is Ms. Morgan's enjoyment."

John makes a sound conceding the point. Then he says, hesitantly, "The part you enjoyed...?" 

Harold delays answering for a moment, marshalling his explanations and, to be honest, working past his embarrassment. "You'd come in, all frayed ends and tangles. Putting you back together is...." Harold grasps for words.

"Like solving a puzzle?" John ventures.

That admittedly plays a part, the challenge of understanding John and quietly providing what he needs, but it isn't what Harold was trying to get at. "It's very intimate, to see you like this," Harold says. "It's not everyone you'd let see you so vulnerable."

John moves, graceful, so that he's looking up at Harold. "What can I do to make it good for you? You don't want to hurt me, you don't want to humiliate me, what's left? Sex?"

Now, there's a question. "Would you like that?"

"I would if you would."

And that - the raw honesty in John's voice - is precisely what Harold cherishes about these encounters. He tells John so, further warmed when John shivers. "I don't know," Harold says, candid in turn. "I find sexual attraction to be very confusing, honestly. You're objectively very good looking." He strokes John a bit more as John preens. "Whether or not that translates into wanting to have sex with you... I'm afraid I can't say at the moment."

"Ask again later?" John says, amused. "Very magic 8-ball of you."

Harold huffs. "I assure you that I'll let you know if I find out. In the meanwhile, if I had everything exactly as I want it, I would have you informing me before you went to Ms. Morgan, and accepting my care afterwards, and furthermore requesting any intimacy that you wanted of me. That includes sex," he says, before John can ask. "I find sex without desire to be satisfying as its own form of intimacy."

John cuddles closer. 

Harold squeezes him. "I ought to send Ms. Morgan some sort of gift," Harold says, thinking aloud. "A fruit basket, perhaps. Or I could send you with a selection of some toys she might like."

John laughs quietly. "I have no idea if she'll be into that or try to take off your balls. Better go with the fruit basket." John is so evidently at ease that Harold is eased as well, finally, enjoying the liberty he has to touch John. 

At the same time, he doesn't want to neglect other forms of care. "Would you like some tea?"

"I'd like you to stay here," John says. "With me."

Harold stays quiet and holds on, thinking: _always_.


End file.
